


we could be immortals (just not for long)

by punkpixieprince



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angels, M/M, Multi, Season/Series 05, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkpixieprince/pseuds/punkpixieprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am the angel Samuel," the man said. "I'm here to help you save the world from the Apocalypse."</p><p>"...Okay," Steve said. "I don't suppose that has anything to do with punching Nazis, because I have a very specific sort of skillset."</p>
            </blockquote>





	we could be immortals (just not for long)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flyingthesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/gifts).



> yup. YUP. I GOT MY OWN GIRLFRIEND BECAUSE YOUR INTERESTS ARE THAT DAMN OBSCURE. and I STILL didn't write you the Nextwave fic I know you really really wanted. hahaha whoops?
> 
> seriously though, I am so glad we text because I was laughing so hard and also I am a terrible liar, Reili. IT WAS SO BAD.
> 
> I wrote this based entirely off of memory of how season 5 went, so. if you know me, you know that I haven't watched Supernatural in YEARS and I don't particularly give a fuck about whatever I got wrong, because, you know, Supernatural. hopefully you still like it, because like. An Attempt Was Made. even if Sam is OOC. HE'S AN ANGEL OKAY IT'S A GR8 JOKE. 
> 
> thank you to [pan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Saralisse/) and [tamara](https://twitter.com/witchloki) for fixing my grammar mistakes, actually knowing shit about Supernatural, and helping me with dialogue. (there's about three lines that are 100% tamara and they are all amazing.) ♥ ♥
> 
> oh, and title's from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBiQCZd8UII). sort of obviously.

Steve woke up.

"I thought I was dead," he said, staring at the dark-skinned man standing above him. He was lying on a soft bed, and everything around him was so bright it hurt his eyes.

Everything hurt, actually. Steve wondered if that was what happened when you crash-landed a plane, even as a supersoldier.

"You were," the man said. Oh, Steve thought. Maybe not. "Welcome back to Earth, Steve Rogers."

Steve sat up slowly, taking a breath. His chest felt like it was on fire. For a wild moment, he thought he was having an asthma attack.

"Who are you?" Steve finally asked, when he felt like he could actually speak again.

"I am the angel Samuel," the man said. "I'm here to help you save the world from the Apocalypse."

Steve stared at him.

"Okay," he said finally. "I don't suppose that has anything to do with punching Nazis, because I have a very specific sort of skillset."

Samuel tilted his head. "I believe in you," he said firmly.

*****

"You are a righteous man," Samuel told him later. Steve didn't feel righteous. He felt lost, out of place and out of time.

"I don't know the first thing about demons," Steve had said again. It was a common argument.

"You will learn," Samuel had replied, always frustratingly confident in Steve's ability.

Three months later, Steve wasn't so sure it was a learning curve as much as survival instinct. Kill or be killed. Fight or die.

That, Steve _did_ know.

*****

Ghosts were real. Steve had already learned that, already spoken in hesitant Latin to banish them, already learned how to make salt bullets. He had fought ghosts, in this crazy world where human Nazis were the least of everyone's worries.

But this was one ghost he'd never expected to meet, especially not in the backwoods of Kentucky, investigating cow deaths that lead up to lifeless human corpses.

"Bucky?" Steve whispered, voice cracking. 

Bucky whirled around, mouth red, eyes black.

He ran. Steve didn't follow.

*****

Steve stumbled back to the tiny bed and breakfast he was staying at. He shambled into the room, numb, collapsing on the bed. He put his head in his hands, staring at his worn-out boots. Staring at nothing.

"Am I in Hell?" he asked no one.

"No," Samuel said. "But I understand the comparison." 

Steve turned slightly, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He was standing almost behind Steve next to the bed. If Steve squinted, he could just seen the shadows of the looming shapes behind Samuel. Wings.

"Ever since you woke me up, I've felt like... like this must be what Hell is," Steve said. "I died in 1945, and I don't... I wake up, and it's 2012, and monsters are real, and Bucky is..."

"A vampire, yeah," Samuel said. "I admit, I did not see that coming."

"I watched him die," Steve said.

"People do not always stay dead," Samuel said. "Even if they should have."

"Should I have?" Steve asked, turning to look at Samuel, his hands falling to his lap.

Samuel turned to look at him, and Steve felt his breath freeze in his chest. Samuel looked human, with his khakis and his too-tight shirts, but his eyes were a different story. They were ancient, and they were cold.

"No," Samuel said finally, and he was gone.

Steve didn't believe him. He stood up slowly, and started packing. 

Two hours later, just past morning, there was a knock on his door.

Steve opened the door, and he wasn't as surprised as he should have been.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" Bucky asked, and Steve wanted to cry.

Hell or not, Steve wasn't letting go this time.

*****

Buck still looked surprisingly small, even though his hair was longer, ragged, his muscles more defined. He also had a metallic arm, which was definitely new.

Steve was still bigger. It still didn't make sense.

"I don't... I don't remember it," Bucky said. "Being human."

"I can help," Steve said.

"What if I don't want you to?" Bucky asked, whirling around. "What if I don't want to know?"

"You came to me," Steve pointed out. "You want _something_."

"I," Bucky said. "I know you. I don't remember you, but _I know you_."

"Bucky," Steve said. "That's who you are. I'm... I'm Steve. I'm your best friend."

"How are you alive?" Bucky asked. "I don't remember being human, but I remember... a lot. I remember everything else."

"I died," Steve said. "And then they brought me back."

"Like me," Bucky said.

"Yeah, Buck," Steve said. "Just like you."

Bucky stood up suddenly, pacing around the room. Avoiding the sun. Steve stood up and closed the blinds.

"Someone's been killing people," Bucky said suddenly. "There's someone else in town, someone following me. I don't know why. You know who I am, and... I need you." Steve stopped fussing with the curtain and turned around. "I need your help, Steve."

There was only one thing Steve could say to that.

"Okay."

*****

Vampires weren't human. Vampires weren't evil, either.

The world had grey areas. War wasn't just punching Nazis, Steve didn't just kill the unequivocal bad guys. He was a soldier, but he wasn't a hero. He was just a man from the city, a naive kid who wanted to do the right thing and lost sight of that along the way.

Angels didn't mean goodness. Samuel might be God's messenger, but Steve had more important things than God.

Samuel didn't see it that way.

"You partnered up with an abomination?" Samuel asked, crossing his arms. Bucky was asleep in a new motel room Steve had hastily rented, one with less lighting, since Steve's curtains weren't enough for the midday light. Steve should probably get some rest as well, since they were going hunting as soon as it got dark again. Instead, he was sorting out… personnel issues.

"Two heads are better than one," Steve said mildly. "And he's not an abomination, he's my best friend."

"He's the undead," Samuel said.

"So am I," Steve said. "You know, technically."

"You are _God's Chosen_ ," Samuel said, clearly frustrated. "You are… a hero. The greatest example of humanity in the last century. Someone who can save God's people! He is decidedly _not_."

"You know, everyone always thinks they know me," Steve said quietly. "They think I'm their hero, like I really did punch Hitler in the face, and stopped the Red Skull, and got rid of Hydra all by myself. But I didn't. I had a team, I had people watching my back, and _Bucky was one of them_. He saved the world then, and he can do it again."

"He doesn't even remember who he used to be," Samuel said. "He's not the same person."

"Well," Steve said, staring out the bed, where rifles packed with silver bullets and rocksalt were slung haphazardly next to a cross, a stake, a magic knife. "Maybe that's a good thing."

"I don't trust this," Samuel said finally, crossing his arms. "But my orders are to help you. So I will. For now."

"Well, alright," Steve said. "Thank you." It would have to do for now.

*****

"Hello, _Sam_ ," Bucky said when they sorted out their gear later that night.

"Vampire," Samuel said curtly.

"My name's Bucky," Bucky said. "Apparently."

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes," Steve said. "But yeah, everyone calls you Bucky."

"I don't particularly care," Samuel said. "Because whatever your name is, you are a walking danger to not only my charge, but the very quest we are on."

"What quest is that again?" Bucky asked, glancing at Steve. "You were a bit vague."

"Oh, you know," Steve said. "Save the universe; stop the Apocalypse."

Bucky paused, and then shrugged. "Yeah, sounds fun. Just a regular Tuesday night."

"We're doomed," Samuel said. Steve clapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on, Sam," he said. "Cheer up." He handed him an axe. "Let's go cut off some vampiric heads."

"Evil ones," Bucky said, eyeing the axe warily. "Just to clarify."

"I don't see the distinction," Samuel said darkly, but he handed the axe back. "I don't need this. I can take care of them myself."

"What, got a broadsword hidden in your wings?" Bucky asked.

"Yes," Samuel said. "Sort of."

"Wait, really?" Bucky asked. "Huh."

"Well," Steve said. "Hopefully that makes things easier."

*****

It did not make things easier.

Turned out, Bucky wasn't being followed by a _person_. He was being followed by an entire nest of vampires.

They had finally tracked them down in an abandoned parking garage on the outskirts of town, next to a defunct distillery, paint peeling and stone crumbling. There, the vampires decided to make their last stand, and Sam, Steve, and Bucky suddenly found themselves surrounded.

Steve swung his axe, cutting the head off of one vamp with a sick thud as he turned around to face yet another threat. He wished he still had his shield. He could probably hack off heads with a shield, right?

"Wish that staking shit wasn't a load of bull," Bucky muttered from where he was back to back with Steve.

"It does make things trickier," Steve agreed thoughtfully, before flinging his axe, beheading two vamps at once before the axe embedded itself in the opposing wall. Whoops. 

"You sure you're human?" Buck said, pausing in punching the vampire he had by the lapels. 

"Honestly?" Steve asked as he went to tug his axe out of the wall. "I have no idea."

"Swell," Bucky said, and Steve grinned

"If you two are done?" Samuel asked, walking up and putting his hand on the struggling vampire Bucky was still holding. The vampire's eyes flashed white, and he shuddered once, before slumping in Bucky's grip.

"Man," Bucky said, glaring. "I had it."

Samuel rolled his eyes.

"You can kill vampires with a touch?" Steve asked.

"Angel," Samuel said.

"That's… more useful than a sword," Steve said, wiping sweat out of his eyes and only succeeding in getting blood on his forehead instead.

"Just, uh, keep your distance from me," Bucky said, making no move to get away from Samuel.

"I promised Steve I would not kill you, and I intend to keep that promise. Even though I currently have no greater wish than for your demise," Samuel said, before pausing. "Also, to have a beer."

Steve clapped him on the back, surveying the massacre before them.

"We done here, then?" he asked, and Samuel nodded. "Great. Can any of us even get drunk?"

Bucky grinned, fangs glinting. "Wanna find out?"

*****

As it turned out none of them could get drunk, at least not in the normal amount of time. Not for lack of trying on anyone's part, not even Samuel's.

"...and then I woke up, and I learned that vampires can't regenerate arms or anything, so: metal arm. I upgrade it myself, sometimes make appointments with uh… stolen information." Bucky glanced at Steve sheepishly. "But it makes shit a lot easier. Bionic arm, I mean." He grinned. "Dames love it." 

Steve smiled despite himself. Even though he was… gruffer at times, deep down, he was still _Bucky_. Steve felt like a long-time ache was finally starting to heal. Like he could breathe deeply again.

"You humans and your… recreation," Samuel said. "I don't get it." He laid his head on the table.

Bucky laughed. " _Recreation_ ," Bucky said. "Are you talking about sex?"

"If we are, um. Let's. Not," Steve said.

"We're _not_ talking about sex," Samuel said.

"Sam doesn't get sex," Bucky informed Steve, leaning over the table, his eyes black and his fangs out. Steve smiled at him, tugging on his hair lightly.

"I understand sex perfectly," Samuel said. "I wasn't talking about sex. I have no reason to talk about sex."

"Can you even have sex?" Bucky asked. Steve choked, face heating up.

"Wh-Bucky, why do you even wanna know?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. "I suppose I'm just _curious_ ," he said, and. And. Steve knew, he _knew_ Bucky didn't remember, but that tone of voice, with the same knowing lilt, had once been directed at him, smiles and hot breath and _Come on Steve, aren't you curious?_.

Steve closed his eyes, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. 

"Right," he said finally. "You have fun with that, then." Steve stood up. "This isn't working," he said, gesturing at the bottles of beer littered around their table. "I'm going back to my room to get some sleep. Sunrise is in two hours," he added, looking at Bucky. Bucky scowled. 

"I can take care of myself," Bucky said.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I know."

*****

"Bucky! A little help here?" Steve choked out, gasping. This particular spirit was incredibly violent, and had already tried to break Steve's neck twice. There was blood trickling into his eyes, and Steve stumbled, swiping at his face clumsily. He wished Samuel hadn't left to check on the seals, and he was still here to purify the house.

"I'm busy!" Bucky yelled, running into the room, shooting behind him.

"Shit," Steve said, bending over and coughing. The room was freezing, the lights flickering. Steve was never following up a lead on a haunted house again.

"We need to find the damn object!" Bucky said, repeatedly glancing around for any sudden appearances.

"You mean _this_ object?" A woman asked, holding up a locket, and Bucky swung around firing off a round. The rock salt scattered, hitting her in the chest and abdomen.

" _Ow_ ," she said, glaring at Bucky. "That hurt, you shit."

"You're not a ghost," Steve said. She raised an eyebrow.

"No," she said. "I'm not. Point for _one_ of you." 

"How'd you get in here?" Bucky asked. 

She shrugged. "Same as you did. I’m... a hunter too."

"There are other hunters?" Steve asked. She stared at him for a long moment, a little incredulous.

"Kinda new to this, aren't you?" she asked.

A door banged open, and the ghost appeared, screeching and flying towards the woman. Without blinking, or even turning around, she lit the locket on fire. Bucky and Steve watched as the ghost, still screaming, disappeared in a puff of smoke inches from the back of her head. Steve wiped at his forehead again.

"You could say that," Steve said. "But we do alright."

The woman's mouth quirked slightly. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was close enough.

"Natasha," she said.

"Steve," Steve replied.

Bucky grunted, crossing his arms.

"He's Bucky," Steve added, rolling his eyes. Natasha's face brightened into a real smile, and Steve smiled back.

Bucky grumbled. 

"So you guys really haven't met any other hunters before?" Natasha asked. 

"Yes really," Steve said. "Unless you count Samuel."

"Samuel?" 

"He's an angel," Steve explained. Natasha laughed.

"You'll wanna keep him around then," Natasha said. "Won’t find too many of those willing to hang around people like us."

"Really?" Steve asked, surprised. "But hunters work for the greater good." Bucky snorted.

"If you boys want," Natasha started, before pausing. "You can come with me."

"And follow you where?" Steve asked, as Bucky said, "No fucking way."

She just glanced at them both. "We call it the Hub." And with that, she turned around, curly red hair bouncing in her wake.

Steve glanced at Bucky. 

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky said. "You want me to go to a _hunter den_? _Me_?"

Steve immediately felt bad. He had forgotten that, while Bucky was definitely a hunter, he was also the hunted.

"They won't know what you are?" Steve tried.

"They're hunters, Steve," Bucky said. "They'll figure it out for lack of anything better to do. If you wanna bang some hot chick, that's fine, whatever, but I am _not_ getting killed for it." Bucky hefted his shotgun, turning back towards the rear door, in the opposite direction that Natasha went. "Go have fun, buddy."

"Bucky," Steve protested, but Bucky just waved him off.

Steve sighed, glancing both directions, before reluctantly jogging to catch up with Bucky. Meeting others like them wasn't worth losing the tenuous friendship and trust Steve was trying to build back.

*****

Two weeks and three towns latter, Steve collapsed into the bed the motel gave them, too exhausted to be perturbed it was a single. Bucky seemed to have similar compunctions, groaning next to Steve on the bed.

"That sucked," Bucky said.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Let's never fight shapeshifters again. Right under evil ghosts."

"Well," Bucky mumbled into his pillow, which was also Steve's pillow, "how would we know, is the thing."

Steve groaned. "Don't say that."

"Following you into the jaws of death ended up being a lot weirder than I thought," Bucky muttered, and Steve froze.

"What was that?" he asked, but Bucky was already asleep. 

Steve turned onto his side to stare at Bucky, their bodies pressed against each other on the cramped bed. Bucky's hand was splayed against Steve's shoulders. Steve reached up slowly, curling his hand around Bucky's. 

"Bucky?" Steve whispered, staring at Bucky's sleeping face, still partially squashed into the pillow. Trembling, Steve brushed his fingers against Bucky's. It took him a long time to fall to sleep.

"Does Samuel know about this?" a voice said, and Steve started awake, disoriented.

"What?" he asked, heart pounding.

"Or is it an open relationship?" the voice continued, and Steve blinked, halfway out of bed, hand on the gun he kept under the pillow.

"Natasha?" he asked. He glanced around; Bucky was already on the other side of the room, reaching for his shotgun "Bucky, don't shoot her again."

"Why not?" Bucky asked grumpily, even as he reluctantly put it back down. "She's breaking and entering."

Steve ignored him. "Why are you here?" he asked Natasha.

"I tracked you," Natasha said. "When you didn't show up at the Hub, we were… disappointed. We don't get very many newbies. So I hunted you down to make sure you were still alive, and drag you back so Nick can see I wasn't lying."

"We’re not gonna go anywhere with you, lady," Bucky snarled.

"Thanks for the offer, though," Steve said, smiling awkwardly. He still hadn't taken his hand off the gun, and hoped that wasn't too obvious.

"Is this about the vampire thing?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because Nick won't give a fuck, and there's a firm 'no killing' rule in the Hub."

Bucky crossed his arms, drawing back warily. "How did you know about that?" he asked.

"The fact you guys stop at every blood bank you come across and only travel or go in for the kill at night were my best clues," she said. "Also, the part where you keep flashing your fangs," she nodded at Bucky. Bucky glared, closing his mouth.

"Why do you want us to go with you so much?" Steve asked.

Natasha shrugged. "Like I said, you two are interesting. New. Yet despite being so new, you took out that shapeshifter like it was nothing. For awhile I thought you were both vampires, but then I saw blondie jogging at like, 5am the other day."

Steve scratched the back of his head, self-conscious. "If we agree to go with you, can you leave so we can put on pants?"

"Steve, n-" Bucky protested.

"Sure," Natasha said, glancing at them both pointedly as she walked out. "I’ll wait outside. I'm not missing anything."

"Real nice," Bucky said once the door closed.

"I kinda like her," Steve said.

"Of course you do," Bucky muttered under his breath. Steve heard it anyway, of course.

"Look," Steve said, changing quickly. "I think we should at least check out this _Hub_ , and if it looks bad we can bail immediately. It's not like we don't know how to fight our way out of an enemy base."

"Usually we’ve got Sam with us, though," Bucky said, and Steve refrained from contradicting him.

"We'll be fine," Steve said. "We're all on the same side, right?"

"Yeah," Bucky said. "Sure."

*****

The Hub was… interesting.

It was a bar in the middle of nowhere, and the patrons looked like the average rough biker types, but openly wearing silver weapons, crosses, and pistols covered in sigils.

A couple of people eyed them when they walked in the door, blinking at the light difference, and Bucky backed up a couple of steps, but Natasha headed straight for a man sitting at a booth in the shadows. They had no choice but to follow, at that point.

Nick Fury was an imposing man. He was bald and armed with an eyepatch, a trenchcoat, twin pistols, and a permanent scowl. He was the definition of intimidating, and Natasha greeted him with a bright smile and a kiss on his cheek. 

"Hi Nick," she said.

"Kid," Nick grunted. "These are the greens, huh? Still in one piece. "

"Yep," Natasha said. "You owe me twenty bucks."

Nick grumbled and made a show of digging in his pockets, but ponied up the cash. Natasha smiled sweetly at him before whisking off.

"She does that," Nick said as they stared at the spot where she'd been.

"Yeah, we noticed," Steve said. Bucky just crossed his arms and frowned.

"Sunny here is the vampire, right?" Nick asked, nodding at Bucky.

"Is that common knowledge now?" Bucky asked.

"News travels fast," Nick said, shrugging. "Also, Nat texted me."

"So, you really don't care?" Steve said, tensing and glancing around, calculating the distance to the exits, just in case.

"No, son, I do not," Nick said. "We need all the help we can get. And if we’re being honest, it's not like I trust humans any more than vampires. People can talk a big game all they want, I couldn't give less of a damn. Always wait for the other shoe to drop; that's my rule. It has saved my ass every time." 

"Right, well, thanks," Bucky said. "I think."

"Don't mention it," Nick said. 

"Why did you want to meet us?" Steve asked, sensing there was more to this than a welcoming hand.

Nick chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "We being direct?"

"Yes sir," Steve said, standing up straighter.

"Military man," Nick said, nodding. "I figured as much."

"Figured _what_?" Buck asked.

Nick leaned forward. "See, there's a rumor going around the other hunters. A rumor about demons preparing for something big, about suped up monsters runnin' loose. And a rumor about two men tryin' to stop them, cork shit up before all hell breaks loose." Nick paused. "Literally." Nick raised his eyebrow. "Don't suppose you two know anythin' about that."

They all stared at each other for a moment.

"Nope," Steve said.

"Not a clue," Bucky said.

"Huh," Nick said. "That's too bad." He sat back. "Must've been that other dead soldier and his vampire friend."

"Well, I'm not dead," Steve said. "Obviously."

"Sure," Nick said. "Pull the other one, Rogers."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "How do you—"

"Like I said," Nick interrupted. "Rumors."

"Rumors," Steve repeated.

"Spies," Bucky said.

"Information gatherers," Nick said. "Friends of mine did some digging, found some interesting information about one Steve Rogers, the one and only Captain America, the hero of World War II. Died 1945. Looks a lot like you, I gotta say." Nick flipped a photo across the table, and Steve grabbed it before it slid off. It was him, standing in front of a supply truck, Bucky standing next to him.

"Is that me?" Bucky asked, staring at it.

"Yeah," Steve said, looking at his old uniform, at the men surrounding them, men he knew, men who were dead now.

"Lieutenant James Barnes," Nick said. "Also listed as dead, in reality turned into a vampire. Thought that was your story too," Nick said, turning back to Steve, "but Nat said that wasn't true. So either you're a shapeshifter with a particular hatred of your own, or you're another breed of dead man walking. Weirder shit has happened 'round here, so I’ll buy whatever you sell me."

"An angel brought me back to stop the Apocalypse," Steve said. 

"Now," Nick said. "That is gonna be the weirdest."

"Still catching up?" Natasha said, returning with a beer. She slid into the booth next to Nick, taking a swig and putting her feet on the seat opposite.

"Just wrapping up on the details," Nick said. "You boys stay comfortable, I'll get you a drink. On the house."

"Sure," Steve said, even as Bucky opened his mouth to say no. Steve looked at him, and Bucky huffed out a sigh.

"Alright," he said. "One drink."

*****

Five drinks later, Samuel showed up.

"—And I told him, 'Phil, is that a goddamn basilisk on my goddamn car?' and he said, 'considering the circumstances, I prefer not to look'. Can you believe that motherfucker? Wouldn't even try and save my car. That shit was an antique, and then we were runnin' on foot—"

"Are you getting drunk _again_?"

"Sam!" Bucky said, leaning out of his seat and grinning. Steve grabbed his shirt to keep him from falling over. "Pull up a chair, Nick's telling us stories."

"I'd rather not," Samuel said. 

"Don't you ever get tired of being a stick in the mud?" Bucky asked as Steve dragged him back into his seat.

Steve wasn't drunk, but he still avoided Samuel's eyes. He felt… awkward. They hadn't seen Samuel in weeks, and he felt the bubble of… something with Bucky burst now that Samuel was back. For whatever reason. It was probably important and required their immediate attention, as usual.

Samuel didn't say anything, just looked at them, before deliberately dragging a chair over from another table.

"You were saying?" he asked Nick.

Nick didn't even raise an eyebrow at Samuel. "—So we're wandering around, completely lost, and Phil, suit 'n' all, he hotwires this sweet red car, calls her Lola and everything—"

*****

Natasha decided to join up with them. Permanently

"It's the Apocalypse," she said. "You're gonna need all the help you can get." They were currently outside the Hub, looking up local motels.

"She has a point," Samuel said. 

"What happened to 'Steve, _you're_ God's Chosen, only you can do it'?" Steve asked.

"I was wrong," Samuel said. "It happens once every couple thousand years."

"Oh, good to know," Bucky said. "Anything else you were wrong about?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Samuel said. "You're still an abomination from Hell, for example."

"Hell is in Jersey, I'm from Brooklyn," Bucky said, unconcerned.

"We're gonna need at least two rooms," Steve decided. "If there's four of us."

"If there's three of you, do you still share one room?" Natasha asked.

"I don't sleep," Samuel said.

"So, you just watch them sleep instead? Could be kinky," Natasha said. "But from what I saw, they don't need two separate beds." She gestured between Steve and Bucky.

There was a very awkward pause. 

"That's new," Samuel said finally.

"It wasn't like that," Steve said quickly.

Bucky said nothing.

In the end, they only needed the one room after all, since Natasha had a room at the Hub and didn't mind sleeping "at home" for the day, before starting off towards Samuel's ominous clue the next evening. 

Bucky was silent the whole way to the motel, and didn't say anything while Steve got them a room (with two beds) or while they got ready for bed. Samuel disappeared, promising to 'take care' of some things and that he'd be there in the evening when they woke up. 

"Are you seriously mad at me right now?" Steve asked finally.

"Why would I be mad at you, Steve?" Bucky asked.

"I don't know!" Steve said, throwing his shirt on the ground, frustrated. "That's why I'm asking!"

"I don't have any reason to be mad at you," Bucky said shortly. "No reason at all."

"Then stop acting like such a dick," Steve said. Bucky whirled around, fangs out.

"Why do you care?" he spat.

"You're my best friend," Steve said.

"Really?" Bucky said, turning back around. "Because you keep saying that, but honestly, it's not like I remember—"

"You do," Steve said. "You're starting to remember." Bucky froze. Steve took a deep breath, and walked forward.

"I _know_ , Buck. Your memories are still in there somewhere."

"How do you know?" Bucky asked, his back still turned to Steve.

"You’ve mentioned following me into the ‘jaws of death’. And lately I look at you and… it feels like it used to be." Steve put a hand on Bucky's shoulder, but Bucky pulled away roughly. 

"I'm not that person," Bucky said. "I'm not the man I _used to be_. I'm not the man you—" he stopped. "I'm not him."

"I don't care, Buck," Steve said.

"Yes you do," Bucky turned around. "You think—"

"I think you're different. I think we're both different. But I think we're still brothers in this, it's still us against the world, and you're still the only person who knows what it's like, to be in this crazy world 70 years out of time."

"Brothers," Bucky said, looking at Steve. Steve licked his lips.

"Maybe not brothers," he said, and Bucky kissed him. It was rough, nothing like the teasing playful way he'd kissed Steve in the past; but, Steve supposed, as far as this Bucky knew, he _hadn't_ ever kissed Steve in the past.

Steve kissed back, wrapped his arms around Bucky's shoulders, and things felt _right_ again. Steve leaned back to kiss Bucky's nose, his cheek, his neck where a pulse used to beat. Steve wondered if he could give a vampire a hickey, and decided to test his theory. Bucky moaned, and then hissed, and Steve leaned back. Bucky's eyes were completely black; Steve kissed him again.

Bucky grabbed Steve's arms, pulling him around, and it was nice to be manhandled again, nice to feel like someone was still stronger than him, and that wasn't a bad thing. Nice to be reminded that neither of them would break easily.

Bucky kissed him, backing him up onto the bed, and Steve trailed his hand down Bucky's side before he finally stopped thinking.

They didn't end up needing the second bed after all.

*****

Natasha was impossibly smug that evening when she met up with them, and ended up holding her hand out to Nick.

"Damn it," Nick said, pulling another twenty out of his wallet.

"Oh, shut up," Steve said, blushing again at the thought of other people speculating on his love life.

"Samuel is gonna blow a gasket," Natasha said happily.

"You're terrible," Steve said mournfully. 

"Possibly," Natasha said. 

"We gonna get this show rolling or what? Where is Sam, anyway—" 

Samuel appeared in front of Bucky before he could finish speaking.

" _Jesus_ ," Bucky said, stepping back.

"Close but not quite," Samuel said.

Everyone stared at him. 

"Did you just make a joke?" Steve asked.

"What, I can't make jokes?" Sam said.

"It's just a little- bizarre, from you," Steve said.

"Definitely freaky," Bucky said. "You should do it all the time."

"Don't look at me," Natasha said. "We just met."

"Whatever," Samuel said, clearly ruffled. "Let's just get going."

It was a little cramped in the car, a beat up '67 Impala that Steve had… commandeered his first week after waking up. But the bickering was nice, weirdly soothing. It reminded him of the Commandos, who didn't always get along on the best of days, but fought seamlessly when it counted. Steve still didn't know much about Natasha, but if her wry humor and Nick's stories were anything to go by, she was going to fit right in.

When the sky started to brighten, they were still four hours out from where they were going, but Steve sighed and turned off the highway at the nearest blinking motel sign. 

"We can drive through the morning," Bucky said. "It won't be that bad."

"It'll be bad enough," Steve said. "You gonna fight with heatstroke and a bad sunburn? Four hours isn't going to kill anyone."

"It might," Samuel said.

"Angel's got a point," Natasha said.

"We're stopping," Steve said firmly, and that was that.

*****

When they got the rooms, Samuel announced he was going to stay with them to keep watch. Which wouldn't have been a big deal, if Natasha hadn't then immediately announced she was not sharing her room under any circumstances.

Now, they were awkwardly standing in their motel room with one double bed, not looking at each other.

"I could stand outside," Samuel said, and Steve put his head in his hands.

"I'm not making you stand outside so we can have sex," Bucky said. "Let's just… go to bed. You can creep over by the window, or whatever."

Steve stripped down to his boxer-briefs and slipped under the covers, putting his head on his pillow and trying to will himself to sleep, hoping unconsciousness would make the whole situation less awkward. It probably wouldn't, but he was willing to try.

Bucky slid in next to him, leaving a solid five or six inches between them. Steve curled the pillow around his head tighter. 

After ten fruitless minutes of that, he turned his head to check on Bucky. His eyes were closed, but that could mean anything, and—

And Samuel was looking right at them. Steve froze, frowning and ready to tell him to knock it off, that their relationship wasn't any of Samuel's business, but he paused. Because Samuel wasn't glaring, or looked angry, or anything like that. He was just… looking. Like he was trying to solve a puzzle and he was confused. 

Steve lifted his chin so he could meet Samuel's eye. Samuel blinked when he noticed Steve looking back, but he wasn't embarrassed. He kept looking. Steve leaned back onto his pillow, and snaked an arm around Bucky's shoulders. Bucky lifted his head slightly to accommodate him, clearly not asleep quite yet, and turn into Steve's side. 

They didn't break eye contact, not until Steve's eyes fluttered close. 

Steve dreamed of all-seeing eyes following him everywhere, and a handprint being burned into his shoulder.

*****

Fighting the Horsemen of the Apocalypse was about as difficult as it sounded. Chasing them down was hard enough, but cornering them and stealing their damn rings was near impossible.

"If that was War, I do not want to face Death," Bucky announced. They were on the outskirts of town, halfway collapsed by a lake so they could check over their wounds.

"You okay?" Steve asked worriedly. There was a long deep wound on his side.

"Yeah," Bucky said. "Just give it time to heal up." He grimaced at Steve. "Now you know how I felt," he added, and Steve winced.

"I'm fine too, in case you were wondering," Natasha said, leaning out of the car.

"Sorry, Nat," Steve said, and Natasha waved him off.

"I could heal that," Samuel said to Bucky. "If you'd like."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather you didn't get all glowy in my vicinity, thanks."

"I promised not to kill you," Samuel said.

"Still not that comforting."

"Guys," Steve said, holding out his hands.

"I'm just trying to help," Samuel said, and then moved before Steve could stop him, grabbing Bucky's shoulder.

"Wha— _no_! Oh," Bucky said, staring down at his perfectly healed side. "Huh."

"You should have more faith," Samuel said, turning around.

"He's not really my God!" Bucky called after him. Bucky turned to Steve. "He's been weirder lately, right? Like, that's not just me."

"No, not just you," Steve said. "Come on, let's go. It's getting light out."

*****

"Sam, you sure about this?" Steve asked.

"Not particularly," Sam said. "But I have my suspicions."

"Just to summarize," Natasha said. "The angels are bad guys. Oh, and we're friends with a vampire who happens to be a good guy, so really, I don't know whose side we're on anymore."

"Nick did tell us not to trust anyone," Steve said.

"We're going to stop the Apocalypse," Sam said. "That's why I brought you back. That's why we're all here. I refuse to believe it was all for nothing, all part of some… bureaucracy."

"I thought you were part of that bureaucracy," Bucky said. "Just one of the soldiers."

"Sometimes, even soldiers have to disobey orders for the good of the war," Sam said. "I learned that from you," he added, looking at Steve. 

"Wow," Bucky said. "We corrupted an angel. I knew I was going to Hell before, but now I definitely have a one way ticket down."

"So if another one of your brothers shows up to cause mischief—"

"Or just try to kill us—" Natasha interrupted, pragmatic as always.

"—you're gonna be on our side? You'll fight him?" Steve asked.

"...Yes," Sam said. "Yes, I will."

"Finally," Bucky said. "Somethin' I think I'm gonna enjoy. How do you kill an angel?"

"See, that? That is why you're going to Hell," Steve said, sighing.

"Really? 'Cause I definitely thought what we did last night—"

"Okay," Natasha said. "Plan. Now."

*****

"—We've been fighting these things for _months_ now, and you want to bail for people who don't even give a fuck about you—"

"They're my family, I can't just give up on them—"

"They want Steve to be some sort of _meat suit_ —"

"I _brought him back_ , you don't think I don't _care_ —"

" _Stop it_ ," Steve yelled. The shouting stopped, even though the ringing silence that followed seemed even worse. "What is _wrong_ with you two?" They had been snide and rude like usual for weeks, but it seemed to ramp up, become even more vicious, and now it looked like it might come to blows. Natasha had excused herself from the meeting half an hour ago, when it was clear nothing was going to get done.

"He's an _abomination_ , I've said it from the beginning—"

"Sam wants to fuck you!"

Time seemed to freeze, with how still everyone became. Steve sat down on the bed, hard.

"What."

"I don't—"

"Yes you do," Bucky said, and he seemed almost resigned to the concept. "You're in love with him. I'm not an idiot."

"I'm not—I—" Sam turned to Steve. "I follow you. You're my… Captain, for lack of a better word—"

"He's my captain too," Bucky said, and he just sounded tired instead of angry. He sat on the other bed, head in his hands. "Doesn't mean you don't love him."

"Well, if that was true," Sam said, clearly uncomfortable, "I don't understand why you can't see my reasons for leaving."

"Because they don't love you!" Bucky snapped. "They don't deserve you!"

"And you do?" Sam asked sarcastically.

" _Yes!_ " Bucky said, before flinching and looking around at Steve. "I mean…"

"He means of course we love you, Sam," Steve said, and Bucky blinked. "And yeah, I agree the other angels, they… you don't know what they'll do to you if you go back to Heaven. Bucky's just… he's worried about you. We both are."

Sam seemed to crumple where he stood, and Steve momentarily wondered if angels could faint or fall over.

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore," Sam said.

"Join the club, pal," Bucky said, and Sam smiled at him tentatively. 

"We're gonna save the world from the Apocalypse," Steve said. "Remember?"

"Yes," Sam said, smiling stronger now. "I remember."

*****

They were circling something inevitable it seemed like. They shared glances, and touches. Sam got more comfortable acting like a human, making jokes, making choices. Bucky relaxed more around Sam, and even around Natasha. He smiled more, laughed more. He was still bitter, but, well. It wasn't like their situation wasn't a bitter one sometimes.

The first time Steve kissed Sam, high on adrenaline, he pulled back immediately. "Is this okay?" he asked Sam. Sam hesitated, and then nodded. Steve glanced at Bucky, who was standing in the doorway. 

"Yeah," Bucky said, fangs growing like they always did when Bucky was aroused. "It's okay."

Steve smiled. "Good," he said, and went back to kissing.

After that, things were better. More stable. Bucky and Sam still fought constantly, but now sometimes in the middle of arguing one would pull the other into a hard kiss, and Steve would roll his eyes and ask Natasha if she wanted to go research with him somewhere else. Times like that, Steve didn't want to get involved; it was personal, their own weird vendetta with each other, and Steve wasn't interested in upsetting that balance. 

Most of the time it was all three of them though, curled up together in bed, or slumped in the backseat of the Impala while Natasha drove, sharing space and kisses and breath. _I'm here_ , Sam's touch on Steve's knee said. _We're here._

"We're gonna arrive at Lawrence in twenty minutes," Natasha said, glancing back at them. "You ready?"

"Born ready," said Steve.

Whatever happened, if he died again, Steve was okay with that. He'd already gotten his happy ending.


End file.
